Why Vampires Are Like Rodents
by Nitlon
Summary: Mick wakes up with a little problem... One-shot.


Disclaimer: Unless someone is willing to arrange a sit down in which I can exchange my soul for the rights to Moonlight, I remain destitute of it's ownership.

I wake at what would appear to be dusk, which is pretty uncharacteristic of me. After all, I am subject to the constant Josef mockery of 'living like some diurnal freak' most of the time. 

Nevertheless, it means I've slept most of my day away, meaning that – among other things – I'm famished. 

With a small push I flip the lid of my freezer open, stretching my arms as I rise. Now, the good thing about being a hungry vampire is that your stomach doesn't rumble – no real need for digestive juices – though the bad outweighs the good considerably. In short, I'm in vamp mode. 

This is why I live alone. 

I trot patiently towards my kitchen, pausing to flip on the wall lights, before opening the hidden fridge in my shelves. Luckily I'd seen Guillermo the night before, because a few days ago I was almost out – and I couldn't very well go get more in my current condition, could I?

Not bothering to consider my possible meal choices this evening, I grab a couple of vials and a syringe. I'll need a considerable amount if I'm hungry enough for my vamp face to be showing without my necessitating it. The default, I suppose.

I decide to take my 'dinner' to the island in the kitchen, rather than risk staining my couch. Again. 

I rest the vials in a spare bowl I left out, to keep them from rolling off the table, while I sterilize the syringe – not that there's anything that might've gotten on it since I last used it, but it's a precautionary measure nonetheless. 

I fill it just about to the limit with blood before finding the vein in my left arm. Just because a vampire can heal doesn't mean we don't get sore spots – hence I try to vary my stabbings. 

I'm sorry, injection sights.

Point being, I find the vein and infuse the blood with my own.

I wait for the pinch of my descended fangs to recede, even slightly. Testing to see how far down they are, I carefully poke my tongue forward, low, searching for the telltale tip.

I find it far lower than I expected. Have my fangs grown since the last time I checked? They feel massive.

I pull my tongue back and taste the bitter, empty taste of my own blood – vamps can't feed themselves. Are they that sharp?

No matter. They haven't ascended, which means I must still need more. It's become a rather mindless task for me, I barely feel the pain anymore. 

But the fangs are still there after the second full shot. This hasn't really happened before –

And of course, now is when Josef decides it's a good idea to call me. Unfortunately, I can't even close my mouth at the moment – might make talking difficult.

"Jofes?"

"Why Mick. You don't sound quite yourself."

"Jofes, vid oo do shomting?"

"I do a lot of things, Mick. This particular thing which you appear to be referring to, however, I claim no part in." I'm inclined to believe him.

"Vehll, sith." My poor attempt at swearing my anger away is met with laughter on the other line. That special mocking laugh that only the great Josef Konstantin can manage: a phone-smirk.

Evidently my vampiric speech impediment is highly amusing, though I don't see how the lack of my disappearing fangs is amusing: it couldn't bode well if I was full but still in vamp mode.

"Ish nah foony!" I groan in a futile attempt to stifle his gasping laughter.

"Jofes! Ith nah!" I wince when my fangs cut into my lower lip, creating two identical slapdash gashes.

"Damnit!" At least I can say that much.

"Oh, man, that's what you get! That's what you get for never using your teeth!"

"Wah?" I can virtually hear him roll his eyes over the phone.

"Mick, a vampire's teeth are constantly growing. Like a beaver or a rat, if they don't get enough use they become too long for your mouth – Mick, your inner beast is demanding to be fed!"

"Ah oo feed."

"Not that made from concentrate crap, you idiot. I meant real food. Say, when's the last time you spoke to Beth?"

"Jofes! Tas nah foony!" More hellacious laughter. That man is obnoxious reincarnated.

"Well, Mick, unless you like to call up the other human that knows all your deep secrets…then again, I could always bring you something."

"I'ma kee oo." I keep my mouth wide, in a grimace, to keep from injuring myself again.

"Good luck leaving the house without being arrested." I huff, exasperated, into the phone.

"Prees elp."

"Sorry, what was that, buddy?"

"P..lr…r…lees aehlp."

"You're going to have to be clearer."

"Ahhh…help…p…lease."

"Well, why didn't you say that in the first place!" I sigh, the outward and unnecessary breath crackling over the phone.

"Jofes."

"Aw, there there youngin'. You had to learn sometime."

A/N: It wasn't originally Mick, just the idea of a vampire who couldn't make his fangs disappear was pretty amusing to me.

I have to ask, because maybe someone might know, but I saw this abbreviation and this is my best guess as to it's meaning:

ROTFLMAF Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Ass Forward?


End file.
